Dangerously Close (Aris x Reader)

33) Beautifully New

Aris's P.O.V

I didn't think I could actually process it. In just a few seconds, it seemed like I watched some idiot undo all the good she had done. All the work and effort she was putting in to be better and heal. Just coming here was a huge accomplishment. It was her very first bonfire. It was supposed to be special, and a stranger just ruined it for her. For what? To be a jerk?

"Why would you ask that?"I snapped.

"Ask what?"

"The question you asked two seconds ago. Why would you make fun of her?"

"I'm not wrong. If she didn't want people to ask, she'd wear long sleeves."

"She doesn't exist for you. She can wear whatever the hell she wants. No matter what it is, there's no excuse to insult the person who's the only reason you're alive. You should be thanking her. You should feel nothing but gratitude to her. You should be glad someone cared enough to risk their life for people she doesn't even know,"I listed.

"What do you mean she saved me? I didn't see her when I was broken out,"He said in a gotcha tone.

"She was the leader of the entire thing. She killed to save you. She murdered people for you. She killed two chancellors of WCKD. What have you done with your life?"

Finally shutting up, he turned his gaze to the ground.

"If you ever talk like that to her again, if you ever do anything but beg for forgiveness on your knees and thank her with everything you have, I will send you to some place worse than WCKD. I will find a place worse than the Scorch. I will find a place worse than an organization that locked you up, took away your memories, and was going to kill you to harvest you for your organs. That's not a threat either. That's a warning,"I spat, going to find her. Stepping over the log, I pushed past people and headed past the tents to whichever direction she went, the fire dimming as I walked further. Taking a slow breath, I felt my racing heart calm down, now just replaced with this almost demand to comfort her. Even if she didn't want me to be the one to do that, to find some way to make her feel better.

She did seem to be feeling just fine until some idiot ruined it.

Stopping in my tracks for a moment, finding myself standing between the grass and beach, I stood there until I spotted a figure sitting by the water.

"Poet?"

When her head turned at the name before snapping back around I didn't have a doubt who it was.

Stepping into the sand, I made my way towards her. She didn't give any signs of me to approach or leave. She didn't move even. She just sat there, her head almost hung in defeat.

"Hey,"I whispered as I stood beside her to see her jacket now on, covering herself. Pretending that didn't break my heart for her, I slowly took a seat by her, waiting for her to speak if she wanted to.

"It doesn't matter,"She whispered.

"What doesn't matter?"

"The scars. They don't matter. After everything I've done, all the blood on my hands, it shouldn't matter."

"But it does matter to you, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I know that's wrong. To be so superficial about something I got while taking people's lives, but I hate it. I hate the way I feel when I look at them."

"You can be upset about it. They're not anyone else's. They're yours and yours alone. You can feel however you want to about them."

"It shouldn't matter. I mean I've killed people. If I didn't, these ugly things wouldn't be here."